“Alright everyone, listen up because I don’t plan to be here repeating myself all day.” Hawkbite barked as he paced up and down the line of assembled cats, who stood before him like soldiers at attention. The sun beat down on Hawkbite’s dark fur, stirring his bad temper.
“We’ve been tasked with finding the owner of this,” He tossed down the dog collar which he had been twirling on his wrist absentmindedly. It was lavender in color, made to fit a dog of medium size with a slip that could fit it to a much smaller animal. It told them this was the size range to bear in mind on their search, ruling out a few yards which held larger dogs.
“We’ll be heading into twolegplace- not far, but it’s another world out there. A world I know only too well, so I've been selected to take us through on our search. I want to make myself clear, if I give the order to run- you run. I know we’re ThunderClan and that means we’re brave but you’ve got to trust I know when it’s smarter not to fight.” He met each of their eyes, as though daring someone to challenge him.
“If there aren’t any questions, let’s head out.” And with that he bolted through the exit to camp and out into the summer woods. It was a short and silent trek to the world of man. As he soldered his way through a particularly dense hedge that bored their home, he found himself in a place he hadn’t seen since his journey to find his mother. I wonder if she’s close by, Hawkbite thought idly as he led the way across a grassy pass toward the line of uniform fences. A few feline faces popped up over the fence posts, but vanished just as quickly as the Warrior troupe approached.
“Here goes nothing,” Hawkbite muttered under his breath as he tensed his hind legs and launched himself up the vertical plane. He was a bit rusty, but managed to regain his footing after a heartbeat as he scrambled up to perch along the top of the fence. Poised as he was, he had an ample view of the human gardens that lay in a segmented sprawl of color and shape. A lazy summer breeze could be felt up there, and he closed his eyes letting his bones soak up the pleasant warmth before looking over his shoulder at his patrol.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
Hawkbite’s ears positively burned with embarrassment. Were the others really going to abandon him to his fate? All alone? It was quite possibly for the best, however. The other patrol cats, as far as he knew, were red-blooded ThunderClan cats through and through. Hawkbite doubted very seriously that any of them had had more than a passing interaction with their so-called twolegs. Seriously, what was wrong with calling them ‘man’? Every other creature does. He thought to himself. He had more than a few colorful expletives he himself would have been inclined to employ as a small cup was lifted to his lips. Though his nose told him it was only water that the child offered, he felt inclined to be difficult so he sealed his lips and refused to drink. Alone he might have been more flexible, but he could just imagine his clanmates rolling in the grass with laughter at her antics. Applepaw would probably keep the memory of his shame alive for moons, enshrining it in the lore of Elder stories alongside famous battles and dramatic love stories. He’d be lucky if cats forgot it by the time he retired to join the elders himself!
All this, and we never even found the damn dog.
The child emitted noises of complaint as the water splashed down Hawkbite’s chest, darkening the fabric of the white slip that adorned him. She fussed and wiped at the stain disconsolately. When she turned away from him to grab a cloth rag, he saw his opening to escape. Stealing a swift glance behind him to ensure the others had left, he bolted over the table. His claws briefly failed to make much purchase on the tablecloth, causing it to bunch up in a cartoonish manner while he himself remained stationary for all his desperate strides. Thankfully he managed to gain a foothold on the naked wood surface beneath, and vaulted high over the child’s head. His joints absorbed the shock of his fall with more than a little complaint, but he had no time to heed his body’s plea for slowness, instead making a mad dash across the grass and shot between a gap in the fence boards. It was a tight fit, and he left more than a few clumps of black hair behind. But he’d made it. They all had. Hawkbite raced ahead to join back up with the others, losing a hoot of laughter into the cool fall air.
The patrol felt less urgency as they neared their homeland. But Hawkbite had the distinct impression that everyone was still staring at him.
“What?” He snapped, shivering and hardly in the mood for this nonsense. “Do I have something on my-” He cast a look down. He was still wearing the garment. It was a bit worse for wear, damp and riddled with burrs and catchweed from the dash through the thicket, but it had clung to him like frost to a leaf. The hat had slipped off his ears and hung from a string around the neck.
“Oh ha ha. Yes, have your fill. It’s not as if I saved our hides today.” He groused stiffly. “Let’s get closer to camp and then we can…work on how to get this thing off me. Pink’s not my color.”